


Phantom Limbs

by toomuchgawking



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Gen, Warning: Choking (non-explicit)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-16
Updated: 2014-04-16
Packaged: 2018-01-19 14:59:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1473994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toomuchgawking/pseuds/toomuchgawking
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky struggles to adjust to his new arm; Steve only wants to help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Phantom Limbs

**Author's Note:**

> This is an idea I've been playing around with since before the movie came out, and I finally wrote it. Like everything else I've been doing, it was meant to be 400ish words and then got out of hand.

Bucky had been back - been _Bucky_ \- for almost two months. Steve wished he could say it had been like before everything. Instead they were living around each other, neither of them getting too close. It didn’t seem like there was anything Steve could do to help - if there was he couldn’t figure it out, and Bucky wasn’t sharing. He was spending most of his time learning how to do everything one handed - Tony was checking out his arm, and he’d refused a placeholder prosthetic. Steve didn’t really think the arm would be outfitted with much more than the tracker they’d already disabled, but no one wanted to take the chance. And that required a more thorough look. It gave Bucky something to focus on, even if it was to the exclusion of all else. Which didn’t give Steve much comfort in terms of how he was doing.

But it has been almost two months, and Tony was bringing the arm back over, fully refurbished and upgraded, if he was to be believed. Steve knew Bucky knew it was coming, though he hadn’t said anything. He didn’t really know what to say anymore. So, he staying in the kitchen washing dishes, while Tony fitted the arm in the lounge. The apartment was filled with the sound of his chatter, occasionally Bucky’s voice would interrupt and drift through the doorway. Steve couldn’t make any words out over the clink of the dishes in his hand. Maybe he wasn’t trying too hard. Maybe he was drawing the chore out.

He was trying so hard, he barely noticed when the chatter in the other room died out, and he jumped when he turned around to see both Bucky and Steve standing in the doorway with their arms crossed.

Tony’s eyebrows shot up. “I think we deserve a prize,” he said conversationally. “A ‘we snuck up on Captain America’ prize.”

”It’s not such big deal,” Bucky said, “I used to do it all the time.” Which at least was a kind of acknowledgement of something, even if Steve wasn’t entirely sure what.

He gave them what he hoped was an admonishing look, putting away the last pan. “All done?” he asked, grabbing the tea towel to wipe his hands.

Tony rapped his knuckles on Bucky’s shoulder, earning glares from both Bucky and Steve. “All done,” he said cheerfully. “Like your dishes, which don’t you have a dishwasher?” He held a hand up, forestalling a response. “Nevermind, you probably like dishes, it’s probably one of those awful grumpy old man things you do. Barnes can talk you through taking it off if anything goes wrong. Call me.” And then he turned and exited the apartment. Neither Bucky, nor Steve, moved.

”Chatty, isn’t he,” Bucky said after a moment, craning his head towards the front door.

”Yeah, you learn to tune it out after a while,” Steve answered. “How’s the arm?”

Bucky unfolded his arms, studying his left hand. “Fine,” he said. He was still bare chested, Steve could see his shirt lying over the back of the couch through the doorway. “Come through to the lounge, I’ll show you how to take it off.”

Steve frowned, stepping towards him. “Are you having trouble with it already?”

”No,” Bucky shook his head. ‘Just… You should know.” He led the way into the lounge. “According to Stark, he would’ve designed it so it was easier for the person wearing it to get it off, but the way the socket in my shoulder is set up, there’s only so much he can do.” He held the arm out. “Come here.” Carefully, he guided Steve through deactivating it, and it levering it out of place.

Steve didn’t like looking it when it was out; it seemed more like just a hunk of dead metal, rather the part of Bucky it was when it was in place. “Okay, now I know. I’m assuming it’s pretty much the same in reverse to put it back in?” He lifted it, ready to slot it in.

Bucky nodded, but took a step back. “Yeah. You don’t need to do it right away, though.”

Steve’s frown deepened. “Don’t you want it?” I know you’ve been working really hard on getting around without it, but you don’t have to.” An uneasy look set in on Bucky’s face, and he trailed off. “Talk to me, Buck.”

When Bucky didn’t say anything, Steve sighed and set the arm on the coffee table. He sat down, patting the space next to him on the couch. Part of him relaxed when Bucky sat down.

”Bit of a creepy display piece, Steve,” he said voice light and forced.

”It’s not really meant for display, is it,” Steve replied. “What’s the problem?”

Bucky huffed, and hesitated, and Steve elbowed him lightly. “I don’t like it,” he said, finally, almost sounding exasperated. It didn’t seem to Steve like a good enough explanation.

”You don’t _like_ it?” Steve asked, aiming for patient, though he sounded more incredulous.

”It’s more than that.”

”I should hope so.”

”Shut up, Steve,” Bucky gave him an exasperated look. But Steve could see a spark of affection too, and that was the best thing he’d seen in weeks. “It’s… It’s the Winter Soldier’s arm, it’s what I used when I was him, and when I look at it that’s what I see.”

”I can ask Tony to make you a new one,” Steve offered. “He’s probably already drawn up plans.”

”No,” Bucky shook his head. “I don’t know if it would help.”

”You’re not the Winter Soldier, Buck. Arm, or no arm.”

”I remember being him,” Bucky shrugged. “I remember doing everything. Isn’t that the same thing?”

”No,” Steve protested, twisting to face him. “Bucky, come on.” Bucky looked towards him, the expression on his face tired, and hard, and unshiftable. Steve sighed. “I’m putting the arm back on.

For a moment it looked like Bucky was going to protest, but he just huffed, turning towards Steve so the socket in his shoulder was within reach. Neither of them said anything while Steve slotted the limb back into place and reactivated it. Bucky winced, shaking it out.

What is this going to prove?”

”Do you trust me?” Steve asked.

”Of course.”

”Good,” he said, before taking Bucky’s left hand, and fitting the palm against his throat. “So, choke me.” Bucky’s eyes widened and he tried to pull his hand back. Only Steve was gripping it in both of his, and he wasn’t pulling nearly hard enough to break his grip.

”What the _fuck_ , Steve?” he snapped. “What are you doing?”

”Making a point,” Steve said easily. “But you’re not choking me yet. That’s what the Winter Soldier did, remember?”

”Thanks for reminding me,” Bucky spat, pulling harder, and only succeeding in tugging Steve towards him. “ _That’s_ real helpful, jesus christ, I’m not going to _choke_ you.”

”Of course you won’t,” Steve said.

”If you’re trying to make me remember what it felt like, I think that’ll make this worse. Let me go.”

”In a minute,” Steve said. “The Winter Soldier did choke me. You won’t. The arm is just an arm.”

Bucky shook his head, frustrated. “What does that even mean?”

”It _means_ I trust you,” Steve said. “And wearing the arm doesn’t mean you’ll start hurting people again. You don’t have to keep punishing yourself.”

He let go, and Bucky snatched his hand away like he’d been burnt. “You’re out of your mind,” he said, shifting so he was sitting straight on the couch again, left arm as far away from Steve as he could get it.

Steve shrugged. “You’ve known that for a really long time.”

”True.” Some of the tension leaked out of him, and he leaned his head back. “You might have a point.

”Try it?” Steve offered. “If you really hate it, I can take it off again.

Bucky shifted closer, dipping the couch so their knees pressed together. “Okay.”


End file.
